


Kalm Nights

by Ange_de_la_Mort



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 06:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21266330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ange_de_la_Mort/pseuds/Ange_de_la_Mort
Summary: The party reaches Kalm and Tifa has thoughts and doubts. Aerith just wants to talk.





	Kalm Nights

The bright flash of the thunderbolt strikes right in front of her. One of the three wolves howls and growls loudly, then hastily turns around and flees into the distance. Tifa lowers her fists a little and glances to the side, looking right at Aerith, watching the way she moves.  
  
With her eyes closed and her staff firmly held in one hand, she casts her spell with almost dancing motions, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, twirling her weapon with a certain grace. The aura of magic surrounds her, a tangible tingling in the air, an almost audible sizzle. A light breeze runs through her hair, her dress flutters slightly, exposing her pale shin.  
  
There is something tense inside Tifa, a cold hand that wraps itself around her heart with an iron fist. Jealousy. Although she doesn't want to, in such moments she always thinks about how _perfect_ Aerith is, how easy everything seems to be for her. She can't look away from her, not even when the next bolt of lightning strikes nearby and one of the wolves howls.  
  
Slowly Aerith opens her eyes, a faint smile on her lips as she returns Tifa's gaze. She tilts her head questioningly, almost as if to say something, and then her green eyes suddenly widen. "Watch out!"  
  
Tifa feels the pain already even before she can see the dark fur of her attacker, an explosion of painful sparks rushing across her arm, making her see stars. The third of the wolves has dug its ugly, yellow fangs into her flesh. Blood is running down her arm and another wave of pain is shooting through her body as she pulls herself loose to strike back, teeth bared.  
  
A cracking sound is heard as the metal of her shoe hits the wolf's muzzle, causing something in its body to shatter. The animal's eyes turn glassy and there is a final, faint whimper before it ultimately collapses and lies still.  
  
Tifa allows herself to fall backwards onto the ground. With a sigh, she looks at the wound on her arm, the dot-shaped, deep bites. She carefully traces them with her fingertips, then flinches as a new wave of pain rushes through her arm and flashing stars dance in front of her eyes. She quickly pulls her hand back and grinds her teeth.  
  
Surely she still has a potion somewhere ...  
  
Suddenly, she's is enveloped in warm light, a sense of security surging into every pore of her body. Tifa shudders in comfort as she watches the wound on her arm slowly close without leaving a scratch behind. As she raises her gaze, she can see Aerith leaning over her. She has raised a hand, worry reflected in her green eyes.  
  
"... thanks," Tifa says quietly and with a lump in her throat. She shouldn't have needed help. She should have been able to take care of that Fang on her own. If she can't even do that, then what is her place in this fight?  
  
Ignoring Aerith, who extends her hand to help her, she comes to her feet on her own and trudges past her.  
  
_  
  
That night she sneaks out of her room in the Inn and out of the city. With a soft sigh she stretches her legs and looks around, observing the world around Kalm in the weak light radiated by both the city and the stars. She is supposed to sleep just like the others. The next morning they will leave early, crossing the swamp and then beyond.  
  
But the way she is now, the way she feels now, she is not of much help.  
  
While they travel there is no time for her to improve. So she has decided that this leaves her no choice but to use what little time she has on her own, at night, unnoticed by the rest of the party, to improve her magic skills.  
  
She doesn't want to be weak. She doesn't want to be a burden to anyone. She wants to make sure that the others can rely on her.  
  
So she guesses it's going to be a long night, one of many to come.  
  
_  
  
"Tifa?"  
  
Upon suddenly hearing a voice behind her, she flinches and tenses, casting a glance over her shoulder. "What? Oh!" As she recognizes Aerith, she just tenses even more. At the same time she deliberately relaxes her shoulders and crosses her arms behind her back, forcing herself to smile. "Why are you awake?"  
  
"I could ask you the same. I saw the light and wanted to know what's going on." Aerith moves one step closer and tilts her head, looking at Tifa from top to bottom, and then puts a hand to her chin. "What are you doing here all alone?"  
  
Tifa shrugs her shoulders and averts her gaze. Then she raises her right arm a little, presenting the new armlet they bought in the shop, as well as the materia inside. "I'm practicing with my materia."  
  
"Why?"  
  
_Because I don't want to be saved anymore. Because I can take care of myself. Because I don't want you to think I'm weak._ "I want my magic to be better."  
  
Now Aerith tilts her head to the other side and frowns. "But it's pretty good already."  
  
"Well, but I want it to be better," Tifa barks and regrets it immediately. She already wants to apologize for it, but Aerith doesn't seem to hold it against her, because she comes closer and grasps Tifa's hand with a smile, just as if she doesn't notice the tension between the two of them. Or maybe there is no tension between them at all. Maybe it all comes from Tifa and Aerith is never _perfect _just to annoy her. Maybe she simply is ... without having to work for it.  
  
"I can teach you. If you want me to." At Tifa's questioning gaze, Aerith hums quietly and crosses her arms behind her back, looking up at the sky. Then she looks back at Tifa and frowns again, as if thinking about whether she should dare to say anything. After a short moment she exhales audibly and gives Tifa a smile that is almost insecure. "And maybe, if you want to, you can teach me how to fight."  
  
_Wait, what?_ "But ... you can fight already?"  
  
"Uh-huh," is all Aerith has to say and looks away. "Maybe I want to be better." Before Tifa can say anything, Aerith sits down in the grass and stretches out her legs, then peers up at her, quite obviously waiting for Tifa to join her.  
  
Which she does after just a moment of hesitation.  
  
And then Aerith smiles at her and puts a finger on her lips, tapping briefly against the corner of her mouth. Finally she puts her head back to look up into the starry sky. "Hey, Tifa? When Cloud and I met each other again after the plate fell ... "  
  
"What?"  
  
"Oh. It's nothing."  
  
Tifa automatically tenses up again. "Really? I don't think it is."  
  
Aerith casts her a quick glance and then looks into the sky again. "We talked a little. About Avalanche and Barret and you."  
  
"Oh. Did you?" she asks, hoping it sounds less skeptical than she feels. Cloud? Volunteering to talk about things? With someone he doesn't even know? ... well. Aerith is really just _perfect_, isn't she?  
  
"Mhh. I heard you were popular with the boys when you and Cloud were kids." Tifa opens her mouth to reply, but she can't think of anything to say. Is Aerith jugding her? Has Cloud been judging her? Have they been laughing together, about how desperate Tifa has always been to belong, and how needy she has been to have others look up to her? "I'm almost jealous."  
  
Wait. What? That's not the punch line Tifa was expecting. She blinks in confusion, once, twice, and then shakes her head. "You'd have wanted to be popular with the boys?"  
  
Aerith laughs quietly and holds her hand in front of her mouth, shaking her head as well. "No, silly. With you."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"I didn't really have friends when I was growing up. The only thing I had were the Turks. And they were trying to capture me half the time."  
  
Slowly she puts a hand on her cheek and drops her shoulders. Her gaze turns to the distance, and Tifa assumes that she remembers the slap in the face Tseng gave her. She also remembers the resounding noise, and the way Aerith's head was thrown aside by the force of that slap.  
  
"I'm sorry," Tifa says quietly and puts one hand on Aerith's shoulder, squeezing gently.  
  
"Don't be. I'm fine. I'm here. With you." She nods as if to confirm her own words. "With all of you. You and Cloud and Barret and Red XIII."  
  
Red XIII. Thinking about what a mixed bunch they are, Tifa can't help but smile a little. "We really are a strange party, aren't we?"  
  
"Mhh. But we're still all here in this together. And we're all friends, right?"  
  
"... yeah. We are," she says quietly, and as Aerith moves a little closer and reaches for her hand, interlacing their fingers and leaning her head against her shoulder, Tifa suddenly understands that it wasn't jealousy that always gripped her tightly, but a completely different feeling. One that she always thought she could only feel with Cloud, which is why she interpreted it so differently, so wrongly.  
  
Maybe Aerith really is perfect. But maybe that's not bad at all. And maybe if Tifa dares to think about it for a little longer, they might even be perfect together someday.


End file.
